The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A swirling storm of iridescent petals, like, fills the air in this massive, underground cathedral, somehow suspended in place without any visible support. The air's heavy with the scent of damp myrrh and something sweet, burnt, and I can feel the hum of a low-frequency vibration emanating from the walls. Umm, the stained glass windows seem to be filtering in the pale light of an unseen sun, casting geometric shadows on the crystal-encrusted pews, and... the shadows appear to be shifting to reflect events that haven't occurred yet.